
LIBRARY OF CONGRESS. 

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UNITED STATES OF AMERICA. 

































RHYTHMICAL PANORAMA 


OF 

Early pioneer life. 

BY 

/ 

_A_. IE=. BUTTS, 

n 

BROCKPORT, N. Y. 



Union & Advertiser Co.’s Press, 
ROCHESTER, N. Y. 







RECOLLECTIONS 

AND 

.-. .'. REFLECTIONS. 











J\ \ ANY still live who remember 
* ' * the days, 

Of cosy log houses, and rough 
cause-ways, 

Unbroken circles, more happy 
and gay. 

Than thousands who dwell in 
palace to-day. 

Still dear to their hearts, those wild 
rustic years, 

Though since oft saddened by sorrow 


and tears. 


4 


F OND mem’ries still cling; to scenes 
of childhood, 

Parents and kindred—home in the 
wild wood ; 

The woods, and the streams, 
iv inter-green rambles, 

Shad-trees that blossomed in thicket 
and bramble. 

How the blue bird’s chirp and robin’s 
shrill lays, 

Caroled glad tidings of pleasant 
Spring days. 



5 


H OW played in meadow where field 
IT 

lilies grew, 

Chased wild butterflies, as children 
still do, 

Wild roses that climbed, in vale 
or in nook ; 

The moss-covered rock , by cool 
shaded brook, 

Remember how birds , they oft 
did molest 

By climbing the trees , to peep in 


their nest. 


6 



UMBLE BEE conflicts, the rapid 
retreat;— 


And stinging regrets, at slowness 


of feet, 

Lightning-bug dashes—most beautiful 
sight ;— 

Millions of spark-lits } on warm 
summer night. 

Dole sounding cozv-bell; in woodland 
that rang 

Its ding dong, ding dong, monoton¬ 
ous clang. 

o 





7 


ONG of the cricket , by hearth-stone 
or wall, 

Katy-did concerts —in Autumn 
or Fall. 

Remember sun-flowers, and 
hollyhocks too ; 

The lilac, and rose, in garden 
that grew. 

Gay morning-glories; so fresh, and 
so bright— 

That climbed by the window, pink, 
purple and white. 



8 


^ | ^ H E wide spreading elm —where green 
* ivy clung; 

Where lullaby nest, of oriole 
swung. 

How aprons and pockets, so eager 
did fill 

With red ripe apples , from tree near 
the hill. 

Remember the barn, the stable, 
the bay, 

Somersault tumbles, from beam, on 
the hay. 


9 


W 


HILE flitting and darting peak 
and rafter, 


Twittering swallows , joined, in the 
laughter. 

How boys fought roosters ; —dung-hill 
or game, 

And bet their jack-knives as now , just 
the same. 

The well sweep and curb, where green 
bucket hung, 

o 

Tree —on whose branches, they vaulted 
and swung. 


io 

ITTLE girls play-house—rag dolls, 
white, and pink, 

Whose features were formed, with 
charcoal ’ or ink. 

How played with kittens , on old 
cabin door— 

Frolicked with house-dog —that slept 
by the door; 

How each Christmas night, when 
hushed was the noise, 

Old Santa Claus came distributing 


toys. 




T HE rolic and glee—so jolly and 
shrill, 

While drawing up sleds ,—and sliding 
down hill. 

The old log school-house —and school¬ 
mates as well, 

Teachers —who taught them to read 
and to spell. 

Sisters and brothers, then imbroken 
band, 

Through field and to school, oft 
walked hand in hand. 





T HE toil-worn father —his slow weary 
tread— 

Afother —who kissed them and tucked 
them in bed. 

Remember her song, as cradle she’d 
rock, 

“ Rock-oby baby all on the tree 

. yy 

top. 

The old pine cradle, one foot she was 
rocking, 

Rocking, and singing, while darning 
the stocking. 

o 



W ORN were its rockers, quaint, 
paintless and bruised, 

’Twas same old cradle that grand¬ 
mother used, 

Broad, open fire-place, with chimney 
of sticks, 

Laid up in clay-mortar, no lime, and 
no bricks, 

It’s evening log-fire —round which all 
sitting, 

Father was smoking, mother was 
knitting. 


H 


T HE antique oven —constructed near 

by, 

Where baked the corn-bread and thick- 
pumpkin pie, 

Utensils for cooking, on hook or on 
chain, 

Swung over the fire, on long wooden 
crane, 

Kindled the fire, by sparks struck in 
tinder, 

Or with hand-bellows ,—revived dead 
cinder. 




i5 


W HEN oft by neglect, the cinders 
expire, 

How ran to neighbors to borrow some 
fire. 

Best lights, dipped candles, in bright 
candle sticks, 

Steel or brass snuffers to crop off the 
wicks, 

No gorgeous parlors, with broad 
folding doors, 

A carpet of rags rare covered the 


floors. 


B UT hard wooden doors scrubbed, 
polished and white, 

Pride of the house-wife by day and by 
night. 

o 

And plain bottomed chairs,—they knew 
none other, 

Two , rockered, cushioned, for father, 
mother. 

Walls neatly white-washed on sides, 
over head, 

’Domed with cut paper, blue, white 
and red. 



l 7 


'T'WO beds, close curtained and tastily 
* dressed, 

One for the parents, the other for 
guests, 

Small children, always in fond mother’s 
sight, 

Slept in a trundle , drawn out for the 
night. 

o 

The tall kitchen clock,—bright face and 
broad crown, 

Constantly ticking, no murmur, no 
frown, 



i8 

H ANDS pointing each hour, its bell to 
strike chime 

With its loud ticking, the seconds of 
time. 

Chamber arranged for many to 
slumber 

Sleeping apartments, beds without 
number. 

While hung in some corner, ever 
would find 

Herbs for diseases of ev’ry 
kind. 


19 


ATCH strings for door-locks hung out 
in plain sight, 

As tokens of welcome, till drawn in at 
night, 

No change in fashions, cold or warm 
weather, 

No hat wore polish, bonnet no 
feather; 

No rose on the cheek save nature’s 
own bloom, 

No costly presents, for bride or for 


groom, 


20 


IV T 0 long wedding tours, from home, 

* ' far away, 

Married at evening—at work the 
next day. 

Soft cushioned coaches and horses 
with speed, 

Rich caparisoned, they stood not in 
need, 

Then they used oxen ; ox-yokes with 
rings, 

Carts and strong wagons, with wood- 
bars for springs. 



T HEN neighbors all joined, with ox- 
teams all free, 

Rolled up the log heaps, at gay 
logging bee 

When log-fires, and stump-fires gleamed 
on the eye 

Like scores of bright lamps , in dark 
evening sky, 

Children went bare-foot from Spring 
until Fall, 

And many a stone-bruise does 
mem’ry recall. 


22 


W OMEN knit mittens and stockings 
and hose. 

Made their own dresses and all the 
mens clothes, 

Spun wool into yarn and flax into 
thread, 

And wove all the cloth, for ward-robe 
and bed ; 

Wore calf-skin for shoes, with low and 
broad heel, 

Which served both Sunday and dancing 
the reel. 


N O tony dances to orchestra 
notes, 

Silk dresses, white kids and claw¬ 
hammer coats, 

But quiltings, huskings, if fiddle 
perchance 

Oft danced, in old way, the old 
fashioned dance, 

Or swift “ snap and catch,” with chase 
and a whirl 

Each boy earned the kiss, he snatched 
from his gfirl. 

o 


24 


H OW long seemed the days,—how slow 
they passed by, 

Just before training, or Fourth of 

July, 

Then Fourth of July was glorious 
day, 

Which people observed in old 
fashioned way, 

Old patriot hearts, then beat with 
new life ;— 

At sound of cannon, the drum, and 


the fife. 



2 5 


HEN drum and the fife roused 



patriot fire, 

Far more than brass band, to-day 
can inspire ;— 

Some heard them before, in battle 
or drill,— 

Lexington, Concord, and famed 


Bunker Hill, 


Seventy-six ,—when declared they’d 
be free,— 

To kings and tyrants no more bow 


the knee. 






26 


A T Saratoga—when rang through 
the states 

Burgoyne is captured ! surrendered 
to Gates ; 

Heard them at Yorktown —while 
blank cannon roared, 

When Lord Cornwallis surrendered 
his sword, 

When seven years’ struggle, for freedom 
now o’er, 

When drum beat the call to battle no 


more, 




27 


W HEN liberty won, no tyrants 
to fear, 

Many old soldier became 
pioneer. 

Hardships and sufrings endured to 
be free, 

Children then learned, at grandfather’s 
knee, 

In sunshine and storm did husbandmen 
toil, 

With rude wooden ploughs, turned over 
the soil. 


28 


W ITH strong, brawny arms, which 
knew no reprieves, 

Sowed, planted and reaped and garnered 
the sheaves, 

No machine to reap, to bind, or to 
mow, 

Than cradle or scythe none better 
did know, 

And hay-field or harvest, brave was 
the one 

Who dared beat challenge, on scythe 
with the stone. 


2 9 


N O thrashing machine,—in one single 
day, 

To thrash all the sheaves, stack, 
scaffold and bay, 

To clean up the grain prepared for 
the sack, 

And carry the straw to- men on the 
stack. 

But slow beating flail or oxen to 

o 

tread, 

Thrashed all of their grain, for market 


and bread. 


T HROUGH the deep forest, their axes 

did rina 

c> 

From late in Autumn till early in 
Spring. 

Far away office each year to the 
day, 

Oft traveled on foot their int’rest 
to pay. 

Few roads to grist-mill or market, 
but tracks 

Where tired pioneers bore grain on 


their backs. 


W HEN mill far away, pounded in 
mortar, 

Corn into meal, then mixed it with 
water— 

On board, by the fire quickly did 
bake, 

Then best of all bread, the old 
Johnny cake. 

Schooling commenced, with big 

ABC, 

Finished with grammar, and old rule 
of three. 



J z 


w 


HILE many pressed on and carved 
their own way, 


Became brilliant stars, still brighter 
each day. 

The singing school too, much pleasure 
did bring, 

All the young people, to visit, and 


sing. 


And his or her fame spread all through 
the town— 

In spelling-school strifes, who spelled 
the school down. 


N 


O piano to sing with, in large spacious 
room, 

They sang as they worked with rat’ling 


loom, 

With hum and the buzz of rude 
spinning wheel, 

Turned to the tune of old op’ra 
reel, 

Music was axes, in deep forest 


seas, 


The echoing horns, the crash of 


the trees. 


34 


A ND primeval harps ,—the tall forest 
trees, 

Rocked by the storm or swept by 
the breeze, 

God’s choir of warblers, in forest 
and dell, 

The low of the herd and the tinkling 

O 

bell. 

Few were the church bells to chime 
on the air, 

Calling the rustics to worship and 


prayer, 



35 


I N school-house or bam, where preaching 
to hear 

Parents and children all came, far 
and near 

While many had place, where worn 
bible lay, 

Opened for worship on each Sabbath 
day. 

When Autumn leaves fell, and cool 
day had sped, 

The children had climbed the ladder 
to bed, 


3 6 

‘HEN neighbors would meet to knit 
and to chat, 

As ’round the broad fire together 

o 


they sat, 

The health and the wants, each neighbor 
was learned, 

For then true friendship in each heart 
did burn ; 

Then father, mother, son, daughter 
and all 

Each other’s welfare, together did 


toil. 


37 


ICKNESS and suf’ring, wants of 
each other, 

Women were sisters , each man was 
brother,— 

Now as we leap, as we fly, as we 
run, 

How little we think on good they 
have done, 

Where scream of the panther, te-hoo 
of the owl, 

Hoarse growled the bear, the wolves 


dismal howl. 


oS 


w 


HERE fierce savage danced round 
wigwam fire, 


Brandishing weapons, with blood-thirsty 


ire. 


Where fowl of the wood, the moose 
and the deer, 

Had naught but arrows of savage 
to fear. 

By shores of deep livers, then shaded 
by trees, 

Now floating commerce, to ocean 


and seas. 


39 


W HERE broad and green lakes, for 
ages before, 

Dashed their mad waves, on wild 
forest shore 

Hill-side, in valley, on plain, 
everywhere, 

Land-marks which tell us, that they 
were once there. 

Where paths, through forest, which 
once seemed so far, 

Now dash with fury, the engine 
and car. 


40 


W HERE net-work of roads now 
traversed with speed 
They first built cause-ways, used oxen 
for steeds, 

Where once log-cabin, the land-marks 
which tell, 

Are proud happy homes, where 
thousands now dwell, 

Richly draped parlors, with wide 
folding doors, 

Velvet or brussels to cover the 


floors. 


4i 


C OSTLY pianos, the daughters to 
please, 

Spring-cushioned chairs for beauty 
and ease, 

Where orchard, meadow, with all their 
bright charms 

School-houses, churches, and beautiful 
farms, 

Where hamlet, village, and proud cities 
stand, 

They built log houses and cleared up 
the land. 


42 


W ELL sweeps have fallen, no curb 
left to tell 

Where the cool bucket—once hung in 
the well. 

No more the garden,—where hollyhocks 
proud, 

Where gold rayed sunflowers, to 
morning sun bowed. 

Sweet scented zephyr no longer 
blows 

Where sun kissed dew-drops, from 
lilac and rose, 



43 


EIRD harps mid the pines and 



* hemlocks now still,— 

Mill throbs no longer, at foot of 
the hill,— 

The dam it is gone, the stream now 
runs low, 

Solemn the changes since long years 
ago. 

Log-chamber,—no more, gay voices 
mingle, 

Nor lulling rain-drops patter the 
shingle. 





44 


N O longer resounds, from hearth-stone 
to rafter 

Chorus of voices in song or 
laughter,— 

No more does Santa Claus quiet and 
still 

Come down the chimney, the stockings 
to fill, 

The old kitchen clock no longer 
strikes chime, 

Nor tick, tick, ticking its seconds of 


time. 



45 


T HE old log school-house, long since 
decayed, 

Where school-girls, school-boys, frolicked 
and played ;— 

No longer the loom, the distaff and 
reel, 

Nor hum and buzz, of the old spinning 
wheel, 

No more their axes in deep forest 
seas— 

Their echoing horns on soft summer 
breeze. 





46 

O more in thicket do field songsters 
throng, 

Spring time to greet them, with thrice 
welcomed songs. 

Crickets still chipper in crevice and 
wall, 

Katy-dids creak their autumn nights 
call, 

The robin still sings and the flower 
still blooms, 

While tall grass waves o’er pioneer 


tombs. 


47 


T IME in its march, slow swept them 
away, 

Though oft, not a stone marks spot 
where they lay, 

Yet good they have done will ever 
endure, 

While mem’ry rewards the brave and 
the pure, 

Left their achievements, when life’s 
race was run, 

Others to finish, what they had 
begun. 

o 


48 

TEAM cars of progress but slowly 
did run, 

Till work they commenced was finished 
and done, 

As day follows day, as year follows 
year, 

Men come on life’s stage and then 
disappear,— 

When riches and honor and fame they 
have won, 

Are weighed in balance with good they 
have done. 



49 


ITH blessings we owe the brave 



* pioneers,— 

Their labor, privations, their prayers 
and their tears, 

Down through the ages, without 
recollection,— 

Their mem’ries will stand, in living 
connection, 

No longer for them, earth’s hollyhocks 
bloom, 

Nor lilac and rose dispense their 
perfume. 



T HEY’VE gone to bright fields, where 
fiower never freezes,— 

Where music is softer than birds on 
the breezes. 

With us, life’s river continues its 
flow, 

Idle same as with those of loner, 
long ago, 

Eternal oceans cease not their 
roar. 

Dashing, still dashing, as ages 
before. 


5 1 


AME sun, moon and stars, for us 
shine to-day, 

Shone for the millions , long since 
passed away ; 

Life’s morning star climbs higher and 
higher, 

Shores of the river grow nigher and 

O O 

nigher, 

Older and older all grow every 
year, 

The same as grew older, once young 


pioneer. 



































